


Simmer, Sizzle, Savour

by taegyungie



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Chefs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, alternate universe - culinary school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 08:49:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11825247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taegyungie/pseuds/taegyungie
Summary: Kyungsoo just doesn't know what to do about his student from hell.Or, Prompt No. YFBD-068:AU where Kyungsoo is teaching a culinary class and meets a certain Byun Baekhyun who manages to burn cereal but keeps coming back and eating all of Kyungsoo's demonstration samples.





	Simmer, Sizzle, Savour

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks 2 my mom, who didn't raise no quitter, so I could manage to power through this and get this fic done on time.
> 
> And to the prompter, thanks for such a sweet prompt. Hope you like what I've done with it!

Kyungsoo has always loved one thing and one thing only. And that’s food.

 

Hobbies and interests come and go, but Kyungsoo, for as long as he can remember, has only ever had an unending, unyielding passion for the culinary arts. Ever since his mother dragged him into the kitchen as a child, because, “I am not raising a son to be completely helpless in the kitchen,” he's never loved anything more. What started as helping his mother peel potatoes or boil pasta has turned into a passion. Then it was education. Now it’s his career.

 

And as he turns off his alarm on a sunny Tuesday morning in the middle of May, he’s actually looking forward to his day. He loves his job. People have always called him a morning person, but that’s always somewhat baffled him. He doesn't understand why people could be related to a certain time of day. He merely enjoys getting up. Giving himself time to wake up, feel like himself, enjoy a cup of coffee, read a little bit, make some breakfast, with the weather forecast on as background noise, before going to his place of work. And today is especially nice, with the early summer sun pouring in through his windows, his white walls and simplistic space glowing bright and proud.

 

He dresses, just a simple pair of black pants and a sweater. It’s too nice for a jacket. Too cool for anything less than wool. A perfect combination of warm sunlight and cool breezes. He thinks about his course plan for today. A lesson on coddling. It’s a simple lesson today, mostly a day for enjoying the company of his students, perhaps even move on for an early start on Thursday’s lesson. With a final check to make sure everything in his apartment - especially his kitchen - is turned off, he closes the door behind him and locks the door. 

 

When he first graduated from culinary school, he applied for work at numerous restaurants. A few places offered him great jobs, sous chef positions at some of the best places in Seoul. But, when his very own alma mater, the place that treated him so well and taught him everything he knows, offered him a position teaching a beginners cooking course that’s offered to the public three days a week, he couldn't refuse. Especially since they were offering him nearly as much salary as some of the restaurant positions. He gets to work for an employer he appreciates. He also gets to revert back to some of the simplest techniques, refresh his memory on things he hasn't had to perform in ages. It’s a comfortable, delightful job. Even if some of his students do drive him up the wall, occasionally.

 

The walk from his apartment to the school is short, and he’s soon in the classroom before class starts, double checking that all the stations have all the necessary supplies and that all the burners are functioning. He likes this time of the day. Quiet time, time to go through the motions and let his mind wander before he has to spend three hours repeating himself to helplessly distracted young men who are taking this course because their mothers weren't like Kyungsoo’s. It’s a tragedy, really. 

 

The first one to arrive is always this one particular student who isn't much taller than Kyungsoo, and despite his youthful face is a bit older. But he's punctual and a quick learner and Kyungsoo is always glad he’s the first to arrive because he enjoys his company. He works at a publishing house and always has cryptic but interesting news on all of Kyungsoo’s favourite authors and series. He greets him with a smile, wiping down one of the counters.

 

“Morning, Minseok.”

 

His student smiles. “Morning, teach. What’s on the agenda today?”

 

“Coddling,” Kyungsoo answers simply.

 

Minseok puts his jacket under the counter, slinging an apron over his neck and tying it around his waist. “Whatever the hell that means.”

 

With a smile, Kyungsoo replies, “guess you’ll find out.”

 

The other students start to wander in, then, all greeting him in their notable ways. He’s been teaching this course for about two months now, and both his morning and afternoon students have become a regular part of his life. He could almost consider a few of them his friends, or, at the very least, he has taken quite a liking to a few of them. Especially his morning crowd, all cheery and kind hearted young men - with a few sweet girls who mostly keep to themselves - that are mostly helpless with a knife. He’s doing his best, truly. 

 

Roll call goes on without interruption, and, as usual, everyone is here except one. The final name could be expected anytime within the next ten-or-so minutes. It’s habit, at this point, to just check him off as late, before he even arrives.

 

“Alright, everyone,” Kyungsoo says with a sigh, calling for attention. Fifteen pairs of eyes all look at him expectantly, all in the uniform aprons and at their usual stations. He smiles. “Today’s lesson is on a cooking technique called ‘coddling.’ It’s pretty simple, so let’s just get right into it, yeah?”

 

There’s a chorus of “Yes, Chef,” from the students, and Kyungsoo nods before wandering over to the whiteboard to jot a few things down. 

 

“Coddling,” he says, as he writes it down on the board, “is the process of heating food in water just  _ below  _ boiling point.”

 

“Like coddled eggs,” Chanyeol, a particularly friendly and talkative student, says from the back. 

 

Kyungsoo smiles at him. “Yeah, preci-”

 

There’s a bang as the door swings open too quickly, followed by a muttered, “oh, shit, my bad.” Kyungsoo sighs, feels his skin start to itch. The only student that actually tests Kyungsoo’s patience, Kyungsoo’s temper. Perpetually late, utterly helpless at the stove, a constant interruption. For someone who knows so little, he sure has a lot to say. 

 

“Sorry,” he says from the back, jogging up to his usual station and shrugging his jacket off his shoulders. Such an interruption. Born an interruption. “I slept through my alarm.”

 

“Mr. Byun, do you even have an alarm?” 

 

Baekhyun, the student from hell, smiles big and wide, flashy teeth and square angles. Kyungsoo purposely avoids looking at it. “I promise, chef, I set one every night before this class. I wouldn't miss it for the world.”

 

With another sigh from Kyungsoo, he wanders over to his station at the front of his class to grab the printed off recipes he brought in his bag. Without looking up, he says, “Jongdae, please tell Baekhyun what we’re working on today.”

 

Jongdae, naturally, complies, shuffling over to Baekhyun’s station to catch him up on what he missed. Fortunately, it isn't much. Some days, he comes in so late, Kyungsoo has to rush through his demonstration so he can go explain it to Baekhyun individually. Sometimes, he can't help but feel as though it’s done on purpose, with the way the other boy stares back at him with those wide, mischievous eyes of his. And then he asks something  _ particularly  _ stupid, and Kyungsoo shakes his head and reminds himself that Baekhyun is just the most helpless person who has ever stepped foot in a kitchen. 

 

He hands out the recipes, and by the time everyone has a copy, Baekhyun is caught up. Kyungsoo actively avoids meeting Baekhyun’s gaze as he scans the classroom. The kid - despite being older, he's still a kid - irks Kyungsoo in the worst of ways. Gets the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight, makes him growl in frustration under his breath. But also, he’s distracting, that sparkle in his eye and the quirk of his lips. 

 

Focus, Kyungsoo. 

 

“As you’ve probably guessed by the recipe in front of you, we’re making coddled eggs for the first demonstration. Easy enough stuff.” Everyone in the classroom chuckles a bit, agreeing. Kyungsoo rolls up his sleeves. “Now, pay attention.”

 

Of course, the first demonstration is quick, getting the water heated to the right temperature and then putting in the eggs. Just as they're beginning to cook, Kyungsoo tells his students to start so he can wander around the class and butt in when he feels it's necessary. He adjusts Chanyeol’s burner, which is too hot - always in a rush, that kid - and pokes Minseok in the side to coax that focussed frown off his brow. 

 

A couple minutes go by peacefully and he returns to his station at the front of the class to turn off the burner and put his demonstration eggs on a plate to let cool. The entire room smells like eggs, and sounds like idle chatter from his students, and Kyungsoo's good mood returns. He likes his job. Despite the slight frustrations. Frustration. Singular, not plural. 

 

Speaking of which, said frustration begins cursing under his breath. With a slump in his shoulders, Kyungsoo heads over to see what the problem is, to see Baekhyun stirring a completely broken egg about in actively boiling water. 

 

“Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo sighs. 

 

“Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun sighs back, mocking. Kyungsoo shoots him a glare that earns a quiet giggle. With a roll of his eyes Kyungsoo nudges Baekhyun out of the way so he can empty that pot and start another one for him. All the while, Baekhyun is hovering close, watching over his shoulder. “Can’t I just say I managed and wait until the next demonstration?”

 

“No.”

 

“Fair enough.”

 

Kyungsoo moves on, then. A few students’ eggs are already ready to be plated and cooled so Kyungsoo helps the more uncoordinated of students. A few of them are struggling with breaking eggs like Baekhyun, but all of them continue to try and try until they get it right, and it makes Kyungsoo smile to himself because, yes, what a job well done.

 

He isn’t sure how much time passes before he decides to return to his own station, deeming it a fair amount of time to move onto the next recipe and demonstration. The streets outside the windows are getting busier, meaning the time is inching closer to lunch, and therefore the closer to the end of class. He sighs a small sigh of relief.

 

And then he sighs in frustration, at the sight of his Single Frustration standing at his station, leaning haughtily against the counter, munching on a mouthful of Kyungsoo’s coddled eggs. With a low - and likely uncalled-for - growl, he stalks over to where the mop of hair is hunched over  _ his  _ food.

 

“Really?”

 

“It’s real good, teach. You sure know how to cook ‘em.”

 

Kyungsoo supplies him nothing but an incredulous glare, completely unimpressed line of his mouth and cock of his brow. Baekhyun beams back brightly, glimmering black eyes curling into sweet little crescents. Kyungsoo’s eyes follow the lines of Baekhyun’s face, so soft and round and symmetrical. It’s positively spine-chilling, how much the ball of mischief tugs on his nerves. 

 

“Baekhyun shouldn't you be-” he begins to say, stopping in his tracks as he glances over at Baekhyun’s station to see a plate of perfectly cooked and neatly plated coddled eggs. They're nicer looking than Kyungsoo’s even, looking tempting and delicious and Kyungsoo blinks a few times before turning back to Baekhyun, whose crescent smiling-eyes have rounded into those eager hound eyes of his. “Nevermind, then. Head back to your station we’re moving on, now.”

 

And with a flash of that boxy grin of his, Baekhyun turns away and struts on over back to his station. Kyungsoo, once again, sighs. 

 

\-----

 

Kyungsoo lives his life surrounding ritual and routine. He always drinks the same order from the same coffee shop. He always wakes up at the same time. He always picks out his outfit the night before. And every Friday night, he meets his same two best friends at the same restaurant at the same time.

 

Junmyeon is running a little late today, but that’s alright. He had a work function, as a museum curator, he's busy. Particularly as summer approaches and there are exhibits going up left and right. Kyungsoo doesn't mind, anyway, sipping at the wine he ordered and sitting with Jongin. It gives them time to plan for the eldest’s birthday, anyway. 

 

“Do you think he’d like a surprise party?” The dancer asks, shrugging as he sips at his own wine. “Though we did a surprise party last year and he nearly cried because we started him so much.”

 

Kyungsoo laughs, picking at the seam of his pants, thinking. “Maybe something simple? Like just a round of beer or maybe some karaoke or-”

 

“Don't bother, boys,” Junmyeon says, plopping down in the third and empty seat. He smiles his usual charming smile, greeting both his friends as he shrugs off his sport coat and loosens his tie. “I got us three a reservation for the weekend  _ after  _ my birthday. Since the weekend  _ of  _ my birthday I’ll be at Joohyun’s parents’ lake house.”

 

“A rich girlfriend with rich parents,” Kyungsoo drones, teasingly, “what a difficult life you lead.”

 

Junmyeon sticks his tongue out at him, Kyungsoo and Jongin chuckling in response before the waiter comes to take their orders. Kyungsoo does a lot of things based on routine and ritual, always the same, but he never orders the same thing twice in a row. The only change, the only variety he’ll accept with open arms, comes to cuisine. 

 

“So where did you get the reservation?” Jongin asks, once their waiter scurried off with their orders. 

 

Junmyeon hums, throwing Kyungsoo a pointed look. “At  _ Bon Bon Bistro _ .”

 

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen, his jaw slackens. Junmyeon looks perfectly amused. “Bon Bo- Junmyeon!” He shouts, excitedly. Junmyeon just laughs. “This is  _ your  _ birthday, not mine!”

 

“How did you even get a reservation there?” Jongin asks, a perfectly valid inquiry. Getting a reservation there can take literal  _ months.  _

 

Junmyeon shrugs. “I have my ways.”

 

Kyungsoo really can't believe it. Junmyeon doesn't know food quite like Kyungsoo does but, as a professional-person-with-fine-taste, he can surely be trusted with choosing restaurants. But this particular restaurant… Kyungsoo has been positively itching to eat there since it opened a few years ago. It’s extremely popular, especially amongst food lovers, and despite its expensiveness, it's  _ always  _ busy. 

 

“I hear the chef there is rather young,” Kyungsoo says, as if his friends asked for a lecture on the culinary arts. “He studied in France and his cooking is greatly French influenced.”

 

“We know this,” Junmyeon laughs. “You told us  _ all  _ about it when you first heard about the place.”

 

Kyungsoo smiles, bashful. “I’m just excited, is all.”

 

“Understandably, so,” Junmyeon concedes with a smile. “It’ll be great. Best birthday dinner, ever.”

 

\-----

 

Pizza Dough Day is a day that Kyungsoo has been dreading. Pizza dough, especially being made by a bunch of helpless amateurs, is messy. Really fucking messy. And he knows, today - and probably tomorrow, since with all the mess, he’ll have to make this lesson run the course of two classes - he has his work cut out for him. Particularly his patience. He hates messes. 

 

Luckily, it's a beautiful day nearing the end of May, and the sun is bright and cheerful, and despite how much Kyungsoo is dreading class today, the walk is refreshing. He feels perfectly fine. Class has been going well, lately, mostly without interruption (Baekhyun) as their usual interruption (Baekhyun) has been arriving mostly on time, lately. As if he’s apologetic for being so insufferable for so long. That doesn't stop him from being absolutely miserable in the kitchen, however, constantly requiring extra attention from Kyungsoo in order to complete even the simplest of tasks. Seriously, that man can burn breakfast cereal. 

 

Minseok is the first to arrive, as always, and helps Kyungsoo set up, get out the supplies everyone is going to need for the day. He appreciates the help, and knows he’ll be getting help by the end of the class, as well, and Kyungsoo loves his job and his students and nothing can put him in a bad mood, he's sure. 

 

He’s proven wrong, soon enough. Next thing he knows, the entire room is a cacophony of flour and pizza sauce on every available surface. Ceiling included. 

 

Kneading is, as everyone in the class calls it, the most fun part, and everyone is having a blast punching and rolling and slapping their dough. They're all cheering each other on, gassing each other up; Jongdae even shouted “Spank that dough, Channie! Show it who's boss!” at one point, loud enough for the whole room to erupt into a fit of laughter. 

 

Despite the fact that, yes, everyone is ecstatic, Kyungsoo is still inwardly groaning at the mess he’ll have to clean. Why did he decide to wear black slacks today? The apron did nothing to protect him from the flying flour. 

 

He’s just finishing up helping one of the quieter, softer spoken girls with the kneading. Her wrists are delicate and she's just so small, so Kyungsoo needs to show her to be a little tougher with kneading, or else the dough will be lumpy. She listens with wide eyes and sends him off with a determined nod, and Kyungsoo smiles to himself as he spins on his heel and does his usual scan of the room to find his next target. 

 

He sees Baekhyun, flour all in his fluffy hair, tossing and folding and spinning his dough with complete expertise. The technique is, well, flawless, and before Kyungsoo realizes, he’s gravitating toward Baekhyun with a curious frown etched on his features.

 

Baekhyun looks up at him, then. Visibly reads the puzzled expression on Kyungsoo’s face, then laughs awkwardly, blushing a little on his round, round cheeks. 

 

“Saw it on the cooking channel, once,” he says, as if that explains how he’s miraculously amazing at tossing pizza dough. Kyungsoo decides it best not to question it.

 

Especially since, despite Baekhyun's impressive technique, his station is so dirty, it’s catalytic damage to about two stations over. Flour and salt is absolutely  _ everywhere, _ and there's even a little bit of beer - from the batter - spilled down one side of the counter and pooling on the floor. Kyungsoo groans, slumps his shoulders, curses the culinary gods or bestowing him with this piece of work in his class, testing his patience, driving him nuts. 

 

Without any other form of greeting or acknowledgement, Kyungsoo says, “You're sticking around after, to clean this disaster up.” And then he's walking away. 

 

The rest of class goes smoothly. Kyungsoo instructs them all to put the kneaded balls of dough in their mixing bowls to cover, let the dough rise for tonight before they continue making their pizza tomorrow. Most people finish up in time to clean up their stations a bit before class ends, and by the time all except one has shuffled out, the room looks at least  _ somewhat  _ presentable. 

 

There’s still some tidying up to do, however, and Kyungsoo is quietly laughing to himself over the sounds of Baekhyun, across the room, grumbling and mumbling under his breath as he tries to scrub the sticky beer off the side of his counter. Which, clearly, is proving to be a difficult task. 

 

The rest of the room is clean, now. Kyungsoo figures it would probably be pretty cruel if he just went and sat at his station and watched Baekhyun slave away. No matter how satisfying that may be. 

 

He grabs his broom and heads over to Baekhyun's station, tossing the latter a small smile before he starts sweeping up the flour that had inevitably wound up all over the floor. Baekhyun’s returning smile is grateful, if not a bit shy, and much more genuine than the overpowering grins Kyungsoo has grown used to.

 

“Thanks, chef. I really made quite a disaster zone, didn't I?”

 

Kyungsoo chuckles, crouching a bit to get at the flour that’s under the station. “That’s probably an understatement.”

 

Baekhyun sighs, dropping his arm from where it was determinedly scrubbing at the dried, sticky beer. “I suck.”

 

A small smirk. “Yeah, a little.”

 

“But you still adore me, though,” Baekhyun singsongs, without missing a beat. Kyungsoo frowns up at him, and Baekhyun’s grinning that grin and batting his eyelashes, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. 

 

“Believe what you will, Byun.”

 

Now, it’s Baekhyun’s turn to roll his eyes. “Please, we all know I’m your favourite student. There's a  _ reason  _ you pay the most attention to me.”

 

Kyungsoo snorts. “Yeah, because you're the most useless at this.”

 

“At cooking?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Baekhyun hums, standing up from where he was crouched. He dunks the rag back in the bucket of water and wrings it out. He’s looking at Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo looks back. And there’s flour smudged across the bridge of Baekhyun’s nose, and on his left cheek, and it would be disastrously adorable, if Kyungsoo allowed himself to think such a thing. 

 

With a sigh, Baekhyun turns away and starts scrubbing at the countertop. “I gotta get out of here. Have a lunch date with my brother. It’s his birthday, soon.”

 

Kyungsoo nods, strangely feeling comfortable with the small talk. “So let’s get this done, yeah?” Baekhyun only nods in response. For some reason, Kyungsoo doesn't want conversation to end. “It was my friend’s birthday last weekend. We’re going out for a celebratory dinner on Saturday.”

 

Baekhyun beams at him, that overpowering grin of his. But, this time, it’s the most genuine smile Kyungsoo has seen. “That’s really nice! Tell them happy birthday for me.”

 

Kyungsoo blinks, a bit taken aback by Baekhyun’s…  _ sweetness  _ and just kinda makes a dumb  _ uhh  _ noise as he sweeps his pile into the dustpan. “Yeah, I, uh. I guess the same goes to your brother.”

 

Baekhyun's smile softens as he tosses the rag back in the bucket and shrugs off his apron. The mess is all cleaned up, now, and for some inexplicable and entirely strange reason, Kyungsoo is sad about it. 

 

He wants to say more, to keep talking. This conversation has been… pleasant. And Kyungsoo already grieves its death. But, he knows Baekhyun has elsewhere to be, so he sighs, grabbing for the bucket Baekhyun has on the counter. 

 

“Go on, now. I’ll take care of this.”

 

The smile Kyungsoo receives is sweet and grateful, like when he had first started helping, and Baekhyun is walking by him with a friendly pat on Kyungsoo’s ass. That particular stunt is so notably  _ Baekhyun  _ and it makes Kyungsoo roll his eyes. Which, he’s glad for. This nice, friendly, easy-going Baekhyun he’s been talking to is just a hint unnerving. 

 

“Hey, chef?” Baekhyun calls from the door. Kyungsoo snaps out of his thoughts, glancing up at him with raised eyebrows. “Thanks. For helping and for… everything.”

 

Kyungsoo doesn't really know how to respond. He smiles, just a half smile, and waves Baekhyun away. “Of course, Byun.”

 

Then, Baekhyun turns around, and Kyungsoo watches him leave. 

 

\-----

 

_ Bon Bon Bistro _ is extremely busy. 

 

It’s not a particularly large restaurant, though it has expanded since its opening, given that early on in its lifespan it received many rave reviews and immediately picked up interest. It’s one of the finest restaurants around this area of Seoul, easily, and the opportunity to get a reservation is a rarity, and cherished as one. Kyungsoo, needless to say, is excited to eat here. 

 

It’s busy, but thanks to their reservation, they're seated quickly. The decor in here is simple, chic, all neutral tones and exposed brick. Their waiter is well dressed, a perfectly tailored, flawlessly black suit, white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top and without a tie. It’s a nice touch, Kyungsoo thinks. And he knows fine dining is not only about the food, but also the atmosphere. 

 

The evening is nice, and Kyungsoo’s spirits are lifted, and Junmyeon is telling Jongin and himself all about his weekend at the lake house. He’s happy, Kyungsoo can see it, if the way his eyes sparkle and the corners of his mouth turn up around every word is any indication. Kyungsoo is glad for him, as he’s the birthday boy, and should be feeling happy and excited.

 

The waiter returns with the wine they ordered and they all cheer delightedly and make the waiter laugh. He’s friendly, their waiter, tall and handsome and had introduced himself as Sehun, and he chats with them as if they're old friends as he pours them their glasses. 

 

With a lingering chuckle, he asks, “Have you gentlemen had a look at the menu, yet?”

 

Kyungsoo has, but he’d already made his mind up before he even came in. “Tell me, Sehun, what is the best thing on this menu?”

 

With that, Sehun looks properly distressed at such a question, widening his eyes and shrugging his shoulders. “Absolutely everything, sir!” He exclaims. “I've tried just about everything on the menu and all of it is-” he kisses the tips of his fingers “-just splendid.”

 

Kyungsoo laughs, shaking his head. “Well I can't exactly order the entire menu, can I?”

 

Sehun smiles, cocking his head to the side as if studying Kyungsoo. “Tell you what,” he says. “I’ll order you the dijon salmon. It’s one of our most popular dishes and I cried once, eating it.”

 

That earns a chorus of laughter from the entire table, before Junmyeon and Jongin are making their orders and Sehun is off to tell the kitchen. Conversation resumes, Junmyeon finishing his recounts of the weekend prior. And despite the din of the other patrons, the quiet, lyricless music coming from  _ somewhere _ in this restaurant, Kyungsoo finds he never has to strain to hear, or shout to be heard. 

 

“How are classes going, Soo?” Junmyeon asks, twirling the stem of his wine glass between two fingers. 

 

Kyungsoo watches the action a bit before looking up at his friends with a smile. “They've been going really well. Too well, I’d say.”

 

“Oh?” Jongin seems curious by Kyungsoo’s - admittedly - cryptic statement. 

 

“My worst student, you know, the student from hell?” His friends both nod. “He’s been… behaving lately. I can't think of a better word for it, you'd think i'm teaching a class of kindergarteners.”

 

Junmyeon’s lips quirk up in an amused smile. “Behaving, how?”

 

Kyungsoo shrugs. “I don't know, he just… he's been causing less of a disruption, though he still needs an awful lot of help, but instead of going out of his way to pester me, he's going out of his way to have a nice conversation with me.”

 

Junmyeon and Jongin both stare back at him. Kyungsoo shrugs again. 

 

“I don't know he’s just a little less terrible.”

 

Junmyeon’s smile grows wicked. “I don't know whether to accuse the student from hell of having a crush on  _ you  _ or accuse  _ you _ of having a crush on  _ him.” _

 

Jongin hums. “Both, perhaps?”

 

“Good point!”

 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, brings his glass to his lips as if that’ll hide the flush of his cheeks. “Oh, please.”

 

“Is he cute?”

 

Kyungsoo glares back at Jongin, debates his options, decides there's no use lying. “Very.”

 

This, positively, delights his friends. Who, unfortunately, start up a chorus of very loud cooing and goading.

 

“It’s not like that, though!” Kyungsoo tries, in vain, to quiet them down. 

 

“Wait, is this some forbidden romance?” Jongin asks with wide, glimmering eyes. “The teacher and his student?”

 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at how  _ dramatic _ his friends are being. “Please, it’s a public class for anyone to take, they just had to come sign up on time. I’m hardly a teacher, he's hardly a student.”

 

“Can you sign off the film rights?” Junmyeon teases. “This is the next big romantic comedy, I swear.”

 

“I hate you both.”

 

Luckily, it's then, that Sehun decides to return with their food, and the conversation is actively forgotten. Everything looks, smells  _ amazing _ and Kyungsoo just cannot wait to sink his teeth into it. He asks Sehun if he could switch his wine from a red to a white, as the white will pair better with his salmon and Sehun tells him he has just the wine for him before bowing curtly and scurrying off. 

 

Jongin starts to talk about the upcoming recital for his dance company, but cuts off halfway through with a very loud, probably inappropriate moan around his mouthful of food. He chews, swallows. “Oh my  _ god.” _

 

“Good?” Junmyeon asks with a smile, before taking a bite of his own food, his face immediately twisting in pleasure. 

 

Kyungsoo laughs at his friends, just as Sehun returns with the wine. “How is everything, gentlemen?”

 

Jongin and Junmyeon supply nothing but satisfied groans, and with a chuckle, Kyungsoo says, “I think they like it.”

 

“Safe to say,” Sehun agrees. “I’ll be back around, in a bit. Enjoy!”

 

“Kyungsoo,” Junmyeon says. “Kyungsoo, eat your food and see the light.”

 

He rolls his eyes, but complies. He doesn't really want to wait much longer, anyway, as it smells incredible and he's absolutely starving. The salmon is tender to cut through, cooked to perfection, still steaming on the inside once Kyungsoo has cut it open. His mouth waters. 

 

It’s delicious. The spice of the dijon, balanced with a hint of honey, Kyungsoo swears he even tastes a bit of  _ nutmeg _ of all things… it's fabulous. And Kyungsoo can't help but hum around every bite. 

 

No wonder, he thinks, this restaurant is so popular. The food is phenomenal, better than anything he's ever tasted. Along with the entire place, the experience, being wonderfully tasteful. 

 

This is why Kyungsoo loves food. This is why Kyungsoo loves the culinary arts. This, right here, is what he is so truly passionate about. Perhaps, someday, when he's grown tired of teaching, he can open his own restaurant. Have tasteful decor and delightful waiters and amazing food of his own. That’s just the dream, isn't it? This is what makes Kyungsoo’s heart go pitter patter. 

 

Conversation is impossible, besides occasionally praising their meals. And by the time Sehun returns to ask how everything is, they're just about done.

 

“It’s fantastic,” Kyungsoo says, and Junmyeon and Jongin nod in agreement. “Please, send my compliments to the chef.”

 

Sehun nods before saying, “Actually, our policy is that all compliments to the chef must be given right to him. I’ll go fetch Chef Byun for you.” And then he’s off.

 

“Huh,” Kyungsoo says with a curious laugh. “I know a Byun. But, he’s helpless in the kitchen.”

 

“Ooh, is it your student lover?” Junmyeon teases and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. 

 

“You know,” Kyungsoo says, trying to change the subject, “what kind of egotistical moron makes it  _ policy _ that you need to compliment him to his face?”

 

Jongin laughs. “Well, when you make food this good, I think you're allowed to have a big ego.”

 

Kyungsoo smiles, taking a sip of his wine. “That’s fair.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Kyungsoo sees Sehun returning, another man in tow. He’s smaller than Sehun, clad in a white chef’s coat, and when Kyungsoo looks up at his face, he’s met with wide, hound-like eyes, looking like a deer in the headlights. 

 

It takes Kyungsoo’s mind a moment to catch up. “Baek-Baekhyun?”

 

Baekhyun’s guilty, shocked expression melts into a devilish, angular grin. “Hey, teach! Heard something about you wanting to compliment my cooking?”

 

Kyungsoo says nothing, just stares up at Baekhyun, mouth opening and closing like he’s some confused fish out of water, struggling for breath. He can feel Jongin and Junmyeon glancing between them with confused glares, and Sehun himself looks a little lost. 

 

Then Junmyeon says, “Oh my god, it's him!”

 

And Jongin is saying, “This is the weirdest dinner ever.”

 

Something like realization flashes through Baekhyun’s expression, and he jumps, vibrates a little, before exclaiming, “Oh! Which one of you is the birthday boy?”

 

Junmyeon blinks, taken aback. “Uh, that’s me, I guess.” He sends Kyungsoo a curious glance, as if asking  _ why _ Baekhyun knows about his birthday. Kyungsoo only shrugs, at a bit of a loss for words, at the moment. 

 

Baekhyun turns to Sehun. “Hunnie, please go fetch these boys some cake. And put a sparkler in one for the birthday boy.”

 

With a nod, Sehun departs, and the four of them are left gaping at each other. Kyungsoo is, for lack of a better word, incredibly confused. Jongin and Junmyeon look beyond amused while Baekhyun… Baekhyun looks like he just hit the jackpot at the casino.

 

“But… you're an awful cook,” Kyungsoo says. 

 

Baekhyun cocks an eyebrow. “Am I really?”

 

Kyungsoo glances down at his half-eaten plate of food and figures, no, he really isn't. But that doesn't explain how helpless he is in class, or how-

 

Now that Kyungsoo thinks about it, Baekhyun has never failed a dish by the end of class. He’ll bother Kyungsoo - as if desperate for attention - but then immediately make a flawless dish that’s on par with, if not greater than, Kyungsoo’s. How had he not realized this before?

 

“I am… so lost.”

 

Baekhyun cackles, loudly, unapologetically, and Kyungsoo has grown immune to it by this point. “I don't exactly blame you, chef. Did you really believe my excuse about the cooking channel when making pizza the other day?”

 

“I’m losing my mind,” Kyungsoo says to no one.

 

“I can  _ feel _ the sexual tension,” Jongin tries to whisper to Junmyeon, but he's always been bad at whispering. Kyungsoo shoots him daggers, and Jongin shrinks in his seat.

 

“Care for an explanation?” Baekhyun says, leaning a hand on the table and tipping just the slightest bit down into Kyungsoo’s space. Kyungsoo stares up at him, swallows thickly, nods dumbly. Baekhyun smiles. “Sometimes I join classes like yours, just so I can show off, or maybe even humble myself.”

 

“You? Humble?” Kyungsoo releases an indignant  _ HA! _ that makes Baekhyun smile and shrug as if he can't exactly disagree. 

 

“But, anyway, I was  _ not _ expecting the teacher for this course to be so,” he gestures vaguely to all of Kyungsoo, “you.”

 

Kyungsoo closes his eyes, collecting himself, coming to the realization. He takes a breath. “All of this… all of this frustration…”

 

“Well, I had to get your attention  _ somehow.” _

 

Kyungsoo doesn't even want to know what his two friends across the table look like right now. He opens his eyes, staring up at Baekhyun, who’s gazing back with this strange sort of hopefulness in his pretty eyes. Kyungsoo finds himself sighing, mostly because this conversation has been pretty exhausting. 

 

“I'm having a hard time processing all this.”

 

Baekhyun giggles, and his smile is so big and bright that Kyungsoo has to blink a few times. The chef - Kyungsoo really can't believe he's a chef - turns to share a glance with Kyungsoo’s friends and he prepares himself for what’s about to come next. 

 

“I can provide further proof, if you're having a hard time believing,” he gestures at their meals on the table, “this.”

 

“That’s an understatement.”

 

Baekhyun looks positively delighted, notably victorious with a hint of gloating. He bites his bottom lip, sizes Kyungsoo up, and Kyungsoo is suddenly aware that he’s holding his breath. “You should come to mine. I’ll cook you a meal, you can even  _ watch _ it happen.”

 

Though it sounds tempting, Kyungsoo doesn't really know if it's a good idea. “Baek-”

 

“I only work until nine on Monday.” His tone is conclusive, as if there's no room for argument. It’s then that Sehun returns with their slices of cake, Junmyeon accepting the one decorated with a sparkler. Baekhyun stares for a long moment at the sizzling light of the sparkler before turning to Kyungsoo with a quirked eyebrow. “Just think about it, yeah?” He begins to turn away, looking one last time at Junmyeon. “Happy birthday!”

 

Junmyeon waves dumbly at him as Baekhyun struts away back to the kitchen, Sehun in tow. Kyungsoo braces himself for the interrogation he’ll inevitably receive, opting to stare intently at his salmon as he finishes it up before moving on to the dessert. When he finally risks a glance up at his friends he finds them staring at him, forks in limbo between their plates and their mouths. 

 

Kyungsoo huffs, pushing his empty plate aside and pulling his cake toward him. “Spit it out.”

 

“You weren't lying when you said he's cute.”

 

“You literally blushed that  _ entire conversation.” _

 

“A hot chef wants to cook you a private meal.”

 

“This has been the weirdest turn of events ever.”

 

“To be honest, I don't understand how you didn't pick up in his ulterior motives sooner.”

 

“Yeah, does he  _ always _ eyefuck you like that?”

 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, waits a moment. There's silence amongst them. “Are you done?”

 

(The cake, by the way, is delicious. Delicious enough to serve as a great distraction while Kyungsoo’s friends were grilling him.)

 

“Just one more,” Junmyeon says, smirking around a mouthful of cake. “Are you gonna go for it?”

 

Jongin is nodding expectantly at him, wide, hopeful eyes, and all.

 

Kyungsoo ignores the nervous churning in his stomach. He doesn't want to admit that he has butterflies, because butterflies mean crushes, and that is absolutely  _ not  _ what Kyungsoo is experiencing. Not one bit. Though the slight ache in his chest at, “I don't even have his number,” might say otherwise. 

 

His friends actually look at tad sympathetic, and it's making Kyungsoo hunch in his seat. He stuffs his face with cake. Chocolate helps everything, anyway. It’s one of the first lessons in culinary school.

 

Sehun returns with their bill and they pay. He’s visibly holding back a grin as he hands over Kyungsoo’s receipt, which is decorated with a number at the very top, as well as a little winky fade doodle. Baekhyun’s work, if he does say so himself.

 

“If you smile any harder your face will split in half,” Junmyeon teases, but he, too, looks really pleased with this turn of events. The man  _ has  _ been trying to set Kyungsoo up for ages, now. 

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Kyungsoo says, ignoring the fluttering in his chest and warmth in his fingertips as he pockets the receipt. “Let’s go, birthday boy.”

 

\-----

 

Baekhyun’s apartment is only a ten minute walk from Kyungsoo’s.

 

The former had been beyond pleased when Kyungsoo had reluctantly called him the next day. It was clear to Kyungsoo, after much dreadful thought, that he should totally give Baekhyun a chance - both in proving himself culinary-wise, and romantically. Because, yeah, Kyungsoo can't even deny it. He’s kinda got a little crush on the student from hell. And finding out he “humbled himself” enough to pretend to be so terrible at something he's so greatly mastered, just for a bit of Kyungsoo’s attention? Yeah, it’s… flattering. To say the least. 

 

Monday evening is clear, warm. Kyungsoo is comfortable in his shirt and sweater, though the rest of him is thrumming with nerves. His mouth is really dry. This is technically a date, a foreign concept to Kyungsoo, who hasn't dated anybody since his last serious boyfriend, like, two years ago. 

 

Baekhyun buzzes him up, and it doesn't take long until he’s in the corridor where Baekhyun’s apartment is, knocking on his door. It’s all very…  _ strange. _ Kyungsoo is at his student’s house, about to have a home cooked meal, technically on a date, and this student isn't even really a student, and-

 

“Door’s open!” He hears from inside. 

 

He sighs once, to calm his nerves, then steps through the door and into the apartment. 

 

His place is beautiful. Spacious, tastefully furnished, hardwood floors, the whole shebang. It makes sense, since, not only is Baekhyun a renowned chef - he’ll never get over that piece of information - he also owns one of the most celebrated restaurants in the district. He must make an impressive salary. Kyungsoo tries not to get too excited over that tidbit. He’s just not the type. 

 

He smells onions frying, closes his eyes and breathes in deep. There are sounds, coming from the far side of the open concept living area, where a beautiful, big kitchen is situated. And there’s Baekhyun, with his back turned to him, standing at the stove. 

 

The man at topic turns to look over his shoulder, and his breath is taken away at the sight of that large, bright, angular grin. 

 

“Come on in, Kyungsoo. I could use some help.”

 

Kyungsoo swallows, kicks off his shoes. He pads across the living area toward the kitchen, eyeing the home around him with observant eyes. Once he rounds the island and into the kitchen, Baekhyun smiles sweetly at him, stepping away from the stove to place a hand on Kyungsoo’s waist and close in for a greeting peck on the cheek. The heat rising to Kyungsoo’s cheeks is abundant, to say the least. 

 

“Hey,” Baekhyun says with a cheeky little smirk, fully aware of the storm he just started in Kyungsoo’s gut, the stampede in his chest. “You look nice.”

 

Kyungsoo eyes Baekhyun’s navy button-up, undone at the collar and rolled up to the elbows. “You too.”

 

Baekhyun’s smile is small and gentle. “Make yourself useful, why don't ya? There are vegetables to chop.”

 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes good naturedly, earning a quiet giggle from Baekhyun who turns toward the fridge. There’s already vegetables on the counter, cutting board and knife already ready, and Kyungsoo can't help but feel like Baekhyun had designated the veggie chopping duty to Kyungsoo before he even got there. 

 

He feels completely out of his element, being at an attractive, successful chef’s apartment, on a date. But if there’s one thing Kyungsoo knows how to do, anywhere he knows how to be, it's cooking and in a kitchen.

 

Busying his hands is a good distraction for keeping his nerves at bay. As Kyungsoo chops up peppers and Baekhyun wraps pork chops in bacon, they share small talk, chat about little things. Baekhyun talks about planning his brother’s birthday, and what they did last year, and his storytelling is funny, and Kyungsoo finds himself laughing more often than not. He’s good company, Byun Baekhyun. And though Kyungsoo is still a little disoriented from the entire situation, he likes him. Genuinely.

 

Soon, Baekhyun is tossing the pork in the oven and turning on a saucepan to make a sauce. Kyungsoo brings over his chopped veggies, and Baekhyun gestures for him to add it to the frying pan of onions. It’s too comfortable, here, in Baekhyun’s kitchen, by Baekhyun’s side, cooking together like they've been doing it for ages. He figures that, just maybe, it's a good thing. 

 

“I'm putting lots of sugar in the sauce,” Baekhyun says, dumping heaping spoonfuls of sugar into the sauce - which is mostly just worcestershire and maple at this point. “The bacon is really salty, so. Sweetness to balance with the savoury.”

 

Kyungsoo cocks an eyebrow, still stirring the veggies around in the sizzling pan. “Oh, so now  _ you’re _ the teacher?”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Baekhyun smirking smugly as he stirs his sauce. “You’re a good chef, Kyungsoo, but there is  _ so much _ I could teach you.”

 

The air between them is suddenly thick, charged with an energy Kyungsoo can physically feel against his skin. He turns his burner off, turns to Baekhyun, leaning a hip against the stove as he glares at him in challenge. Baekhyun, however, is smiling down at his saucepan, whisking happily away, beyond pleased with himself. It’s when Kyungsoo clears his throat and quirks an eyebrow that Baek looks back at him, eyes flooded with equal amounts of challenge and vigour. Kyungsoo swears, he can hear the air sizzle and crackle with electricity.

 

Kyungsoo blinks. Once, twice. “I really can’t believe all that…  _ all that, _ Baekhyun… because you couldn’t just ask me out like a normal person.”

 

Baekhyun cackles, smile bright. He turns back to the stovetop, giving his sauce one last stir before turning the burner off. “Also, the face you make when you’re frustrated is pretty sexy.”

 

“I take back everything,” Kyungsoo huffs with a dramatic roll of his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I  _ do _ hate you.”

 

The quirk of Baekhyun’s lips and the raise of his eyebrow is triumphant, if nothing. “You never said you didn’t.”

 

“Ah,” Kyungsoo says. The pounding in his chest, twisting in his gut, racing in his mind all return with great force. He watches Baekhyun’s profile a moment, before the latter is turning to him with inquisitive, sparkling brown eyes. Kyungsoo can’t help it if his eyes drop down to his lips for a microscopic, miniscule second. “Did I just reveal my own secret?”

 

While Kyungsoo had glanced at Baekhyun’s mouth so quickly there isn’t even a way to measure that nearly nonexistent amount of time, Baekhyun stares down at his unabashedly, licking his own lips shamelessly.

 

“Uh huh,” Baekhyun mumbles distractedly. Then, before Kyungsoo even realizes what’s happening, Baekhyun is grabbing him by the front of his sweater, and pulling him into a rough, feverish kiss.

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t even have time to reciprocate before Baekhyun is pulling away, flushed in the cheeks, and despite his ever confident grin, his eyes look a bit timid. He probably wouldn’t notice it if they weren’t so close Kyungsoo can feel Baekhyun’s breath against his lips.

 

“Sorry,” Baekhyun says, nearly a whisper. “Just wanted to do that.”

 

Baekhyun’s fist is still curled in Kyungsoo’s shirt, and he still hasn’t stepped away. And instead of just saying something along the lines of  _ that’s fine, _ Kyungsoo just takes the initiative and closes the distance between them, once more.

 

Lips against lips, breathing each other in, and Kyungsoo can  _ taste _ the satisfied hum that Baekhyun releases. Baekhyun tastes like the maple syrup he licked off his fingers, earlier, and his grip on Kyungsoo’s sweater is only getting stronger, and Kyungsoo feels like he’s never tasted oxygen ever in his life. He’s breathless. Always has been, always will be.

 

With a moan, Baekhyun coaxes Kyungsoo’s mouth open, and Kyungsoo lets him in. If he could pull open his ribcage, just to let Baekhyun in that much  _ closer, _ he would. But, this, exploring each other’s mouths with their tongues and their torsos with their hands, this will have to do. And he thinks it’s just fine, as Baekhyun uses strong hands against Kyungsoo’s hips to pin him back against the stove, pressed up right against him, every inch of them, and Kyungsoo can’t help but groan at the satisfaction of there being so much  _ warmth _ all around him.

 

His head is spinning so much, it takes him a moment to find words. “Your-” kiss “-kitchen is interesting and all-” kiss “-but-”

 

Baekhyun pulls away, foggy eyes fluttering open in a slow-moving haze. “You wanna see my bedroom?” He reaches past Kyungsoo, turning off the oven, as if he already knows how Kyungsoo’s going to answer.

 

Which, inevitably, he’s right. “Show me the way.”

 

\-----

 

Kyungsoo wakes up at the same time, every day.

 

And it’s early, every day, which is why it’s so strange that he’s waking up with the other side of the bed empty. It isn’t cold, however. Which means it hasn’t been long since the other side of the bed was last occupied.

 

What’s different, this time, is that he’s not in his apartment. He’s in one of his  _ student’s _ apartments, for god’s sake. And if last night wasn’t so incredible, he’d be in a total panic about how everything has turned out. But, rather, he feels entirely at peace. Maybe even a little bit giddy.

 

And last night  _ was _ incredible. In more ways than one. Sure, the sex was awesome (Kyungsoo hasn’t gotten laid in ages, mind you), but the food they did, eventually, finish making together was amazing. And then laying in bed and talking until it was impossible to tell the difference between late night and early morning. Sure, maybe it was  _ after _ yet another round of sex. But, still. A successful date. Moving too quickly? Perhaps. But Kyungsoo  _ has _ known Baekhyun for quite some time, now. Enough to know that he’s ready to dive in head first.

 

With that thought in mind, Kyungsoo stretches his arms over his head and puts his feet on the floor. It’s a bit of a hunt, trying to collect all of his clothes from the night before, but once he’s mostly dressed, he follows the smell of something cooking, wandering sleepily across the cold hardwood floors until he’s in Baekhyun’s kitchen.

 

He stands there, at the stove, in just a giant t-shirt and his briefs, his hair a fluffy, dishevelled mess, and Kyungsoo has never seen anything more beautiful. 

 

“Why are you up so early?” He asks, stepping up behind Baekhyun and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. It must tickle, as Baekhyun is cringing and wiggling in Kyungsoo’s hold before he dissolves into giggles. With an elbow to Kyungsoo’s ribs, he makes himself more space to be able to safely flip the omelette in front of him.

 

“I told you I set an alarm every night before your class,” he teases. Kyungsoo snorts in response, wandering over to slide into one of the stools at the island. Baekhyun smiles at him over his shoulder. “But, really, I kinda had a feeling you were a morning person, so I wanted to be up on time to make you breakfast.”

 

“That’s sweet of you,” Kyungsoo says. Sweet, like all the sugar put into the sauce to balance with all the savoury saltiness of the bacon-wrapped pork. 

 

And Kyungsoo will always think it’s strange that people can be associated with a certain time a day. That he’ll be referred to as a “morning person” for the rest of his life, merely because he rises with the sun. And he thinks that if people are certain times of the day, Baekhyun is certainly the afternoon; when the sun is at its highest, brightest, and the streets are their loudest. When you’re not groggy like the morning, or exhausted like at night. Awake, excited, bright, and active.

 

Baekhyun slides Kyungsoo a plate and a mug of coffee with a sweet, sweet smile. Kyungsoo accepts it, hoping to match the brightness of Baekhyun’s smile with his own, but knowing that will be impossible, no matter how hard he tries. The elder stands at the island, opposite him, leaning one elbow down on the counter and using the other hand to shovel his own omelette into his mouth.

 

His eyes are puffy in the mornings, but they certainly do still shine as bright. “You should probably head out before me. Don’t wanna raise suspicion by showing up to class together.”

 

Kyungsoo smiles around a mouthful of food. “Good point.”

 

Getting ready to go doesn’t take much longer. Including when Baekhyun, crestfallen, tells Kyungsoo that he doesn’t have an extra toothbrush for him. But, he can use his, as, “your mouth has touched more intimate things of mine, let’s be honest.” And Kyungsoo had tried to scold him, for being so shameless, so crude, but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing long enough to do so.

 

And it’s lonely, suddenly, walking to work all by himself. He’d become rather used to Baekhyun’s company, Baekhyun’s endless noisiness and the way he always smells like flour. But the day is still nice, the sun shining bright and warm, and it does nothing more than make Kyungsoo think of Baekhyun even more.

 

Does he already have it this bad?

 

Minseok is the first to arrive to class, as alway. He asks Kyungsoo what they’re learning today, and he tells him, and Minseok helps him set up. And the rest of the students start filing in, all greeting Kyungsoo in their notable ways. And the one station on the right side of the room, near to the front, remains vacant. 

 

Until there’s a loud banging at the entrance, the door being swung open far too quickly, about ten minutes into class. And in comes the last student, his hair still sticking up a bit, as it seems he was unable to get it to lay flat, and it makes Kyungsoo smile, and his stomach twist into knots. But he tries to act annoyed. Because, for fuck’s sake, why must Baekhyun always be such a disruption?

 

“Late as usual, Mr. Byun,” Kyungsoo chides, making show of dramatically scribbling onto his attendance sheet.

 

He meets Baekhyun’s eyes, and they’re vivid, lively, electric. Kyungsoo, truly, could drown in them.

 

“Sorry, chef,” he says, “I had company this morning.”

 

“Jongdae,” Kyungsoo says, still watching Baekhyun, hoping he’s successfully hiding the amusement in his expression. “Please catch Mr. Byun up on what he’s missed.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
